


Two If By Land

by chewysugar



Category: Aquaman (2018), DC Extended Universe, Justice League (2017)
Genre: Atlantis, Beach Sex, Beards, Come Shot, Cowgirl Position, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Foreplay, Love, Masturbation, Post-Aquaman (2018), Public Sex, Romance, Smut, Teasing, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 10:48:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20208496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chewysugar/pseuds/chewysugar
Summary: A boring day of royal politics prompts Arthur to seek out his lady love. But he's looking for something a little different than love under the ocean. He wants to take Mera to his world.





	Two If By Land

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a year late to the Aquaman party. And by that I mean I watched it for the first time last night, and fell deeply, desperately, obsessionally in love with everything about it except maybe Manta. 
> 
> Expect more from me.

Despite misgivings against taking the throne, Arthur found truth in the proverb that it was good to be the king. Of course, he had no way of knowing for certain if that had been uttered in the Biblical sense at all, if it were just a thing royal cads said to excuse their devious deeds, or if it were simply concocted by the mind of Mel Brooks. But the sentiment was the same. When things were going swimmingly, pride that swelled within him greater than the tallest tidal wave.

If only it weren’t so goddamn boring. He’d had his ass firmly planted on the uncomfortable throne for the better part of the day listening to the trials and travails of the kingdoms. Not only was he starting to get bored beyond all rational thought, but he was pretty sure he was developing the butt cramp to end all butt cramps.

And without a Royal Atlantean proctologist to be found!

Vulko, the smarmy bastard, had sensed his king’s discomfort for the better part of who even knew how long. In characteristic fashion, he’d stood by with the ghost of a smirk. Arthur made a mental note to have his former mentor taken to the stocks for his insubordination. He grasped the shaft of his trident tightly, trying hard to listen to yet another boring report from the Kingdom of the Fishermen.

The emissary paused in her recounting, her eyes searching the briny heavens for words she could not place. His frustration peaking, Arthur let out a noise half way between a groan and a growl. Gods, but he just wanted to get out of here, swim to the surface and find a bar. Bad enough he’d abandoned his favorite extracurricular activites since ascending the throne; now he couldn’t even say what was really on his mind without risking offense.

Perhaps fearing some kind of outburst, Vulko took a step forwards. Clearing his throat, he said, “Thank you. You have the king’s assurances that your issues will be addressed. But for the time being, I believe we should adjourn court. Don’t you think, Your Eminence?”

Arthur narrowed his eyes at the vizier. The phrase “worm on a hook” came to mind, not that he’d ever dispense of the man’s sage advice. But did he have to lay the superiority on so thick?

“Oh.” The Fishermen looked slightly downcast. Arthur realized that, perhaps, the pain isolated to his ass may have been a result of some sort of metaphysical, _The Secret_, you-are-what-you-manifest mumbo-jumbo. The Fishermen looked rather young; and she’d come all this way with the expectation that the Overlord of All Oceans would at least hear her out.

“Vulko,” Arthur said, “find a suite of rooms for—sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Aquana.”

_Of course_, Arthur thought wryly. _It can't be Jane or Jill or Khaleesi_. “Aquana.” He smiled as kindly as he could. “Thank you for your pilgrimage. And please forgive me for my inattention. I’m not making a great figure as King of Atlantis, huh?”

Aquana’s eyes went wide. “Oh no, Your Majesty! Your reign may be young, but already its effects have been nothing but beneficial!”

Arthur felt himself flush. He liked praise, but only when it was condescending. Genuine compliments were harder to digest; but as King, he figured he may as well accept them instead of deflecting.

“Well...thank you. I’m humbled. Enjoy your stay here.”

He waited until Aquana was escorted away. Then he stood, and swam from the throne before Vulko could call him back. The relief on his tailbone was so great that he could have sang praises to the unseen sky.

“Where are you going?” Vulko’s voice already seemed comfortably distant in that it was no longer directly at his ear.

“Nunya bizniz,” Arthur muttered. Down the grand hallway, around the corner—people stared as he passed by, but he did not stop. Once outside be palace, he felt as if he could breathe fresh air if only he weren’t in the deep end of the ocean. All around him, Atlantis rippled with life and light. No matter how many times he saw it—no matter how tedious his days holding court were—the sight of the kingdom never failed to stir something in his heart. To think it was all his...well, not _all_ his. He was fortunate not to dwell on such obsessive thoughts. Orm was still toiling in his prison for letting the idea of being king consume him.

Arthur shook his head as he swam alongside the coral towers and pearly streets of the city. One thing he could have used as a child was a brother. Turns out he’d had one all along—just one with a megalomaniacal complex and a vendetta against all things terranean.

Yet he couldn’t blame Orm in the least. It wasn’t as if the surface world were an innocent lamb lost in the woods. At least here he could fill that missing piece of his heart; here he could witness the majesty of the infinite oceans. Here...there was Mera.

Arthur hadn’t even been aware of his trek towards the princess’s apartments until he was floating outside the window. It fell a little too close to the realm of stalker behavior. But he was the king, after all...He smirked at the sheer adolescent mischief of the thought. Abusing power was a slippery slope, and he wouldn’t get the snowball rolling. Orm wasn’t the only one who’d fallen off the rails. Earthen history held a vast majority of men and women corrupted by regal power.

He’d just made his mind up to go through the front door—like a normal half-Atlantean half-human being—when he heard a prolonged moan from within Mera’s suite.

Sitting on the throne for the better part of the day had unleashed the more primitive part of his being. He’d wanted a drink when he’d bid Aquana farewell; finding himself outside his lady fair’s place of residence had ignited a need for the intimate connection of...well, an intimate person. Not necessarily passionate, but just present. At the throaty sound of pleasure, his thoughts took a turn to something more carnal. Half-cocked—and in his case a cock now at half-hard—fantasies burst behind his overextended mind’s eye. Mera could be doing anything in there, her sleek ruby hair fanned around her face; those deft, slender fingers exploring places Arthur found himself thinking of every time he had a spare moment to jerk off.

Her body wasn’t a mystery to him. Arthur was sure he was breaking some sort of ancient Atlantean protocol by not marrying her before they’d gone to bed together; but he hadn’t given a damn, and to his delight, neither had she. But just because a man got a bite from the apple tree didn’t mean he stopped craving the sweet juice of the fruit.

With careful steps, he strode along Mera’s balcony. Another moan floated along the water, practically slapping him in the face. His pants were uncomfortably tight, and he made a mental note to wear some waterproof sweats the next time he held court. Gliding through the water, he quietly entered Mera’s apartment through the balcony doors. And there she sat.

At the kitchen table.

Eating an enormous helping of Atlantean food. Her eyes were closed around her latest mouthful, as if she’d been starving the entire day.

Arthur sighed, and leaned against the wall. The tightness in his groin subsided, but his need for Mera only grew. Others would call her table manners uncouth, especially for a princess. But one of the many things Arthur loved about Mera was that she didn’t spend every waking moment fussing over decency and decorum. Oh, not that she was a bat out of hell. It was just that she knew that there was a time and place to play the role of royalty, and unlike him, didn’t resent it in the least. When she was allowed to relax, her beautiful self shone through all the brighter.

There was something personal—and if Arthur we being perfectly honest, a little perverted—about watching the woman you loved eat. Mera enjoyed every mouthful of food, as if tasting of ambrosia.

Mera licked sauce from her fingers. Arthur’s body jerked in response, and a small gasp escaped his lips.

Eyes touched by turquoise snapped open.

_Fuck_.

Arthur smiled, caught in the act of spying. “Uh...knock knock?”

Mera swallowed, wiped her lips on the back of her hand, and fixed him with an amused look. She didn’t hasten to stand, but instead selected another morsel from her plate. “Isn’t that perfect backside of yours supposed to be on the throne for another hour?”

Arthur shrugged. “Oh...well, y’know...I’m taking advantage of my privilege as king to flip off my duties for the day.”

“And break into other people’s houses.”

“I’m sorry. I should have asked your permission.”

Mera grinned. But still she remained seated. She wasn’t going to kowtow just because he was both king and lover. She probably didn’t know it, but Arthur appreciated that about her. Not that every fish under the sea bowed its head as he passed by—but being king changed the way he was treated in public both for the better and the worse. Aquana’s desperately tripping over her own tail had been a prime example of such a thing, and it not only embarrassed him, but sometimes got on his nerves.

“You’re the king, Arthur,” Mera said. “You can do whatever you want.”

“No. I can’t. That’s what got Orm where he is.”

“Congratulations, you saw through my trick question and passed the test.”

“And now I will diminish and go into the West, and remain Galadriel.”

Mera frowned. “You’ll what?”

Arthur chuckled. “Nothing. It’s in the books, anyway.”

“Books?”

“It’s a Surfaceworld thing. Elves and dwarves and dark wizards.”

Mera chewed her food thoughtfully. “That sounds intriguing. I’ll have to read these books some time.”

“I don’t think they’re waterproof.”

“Then I suppose I’ll have to visit your world and read them for myself.”

“It isn’t my world, Mera. Not entirely. This is my world too.” A rush of affection, strong as a riptide, raced through him. “My world is wherever you are.”

When Mera smiled it practically lit up the room. “That’s wonderful to hear. Thank you.” She finished her meal. “You didn’t answer my question, my king. What are you doing here?”

“Spying on you. I thought we’d established that.”

“Yes, but why are you spying on me? I’m not so vain as to think the sight of me eating like a sea cow is remotely attractive.”

“We’ve got very different views on aesthetics.” Arthur sighed. “Alright. I’ll take the bait. I’ve been bitten by the royal blues, and I was going to swim to the Surface for a drink. Pretty sad, isn’t it?”

Mera cocked her head to the side. “Why would it be sad?”

“I’m the king, Mera. I should be able to handle sitting on my ass for a few hours a day.”

Sighing, Mera stood and carried her tray to the kitchen. She had servants to attend to her whims, but the entire point of having her own suite of rooms was to enjoy the independence she enjoyed. Nereus would have a fit if he saw the way his daughter was living.

“You’ve only been on the throne for a few months. Nobody is expecting you to be master of your domain right away.”

“They certainly act like it,” Arthur growled.

“I’m not. Vulko isn’t. Neither is your mother. And we both know Orm isn’t.”

“Orm?” Arthur laughed. “He’s waiting for the day I fuck it up enough to be overthrown.”

“Yes.” Mera turned and flashed a sweet as strychnine smile. “But that’s still another notch for the tally. Quantity matters in cases like this.” All at once she swam across her apartment, coming to rest less than six inches from him. “If that’s not enough to convince you, then how about this?” Her lips ghosted against his ear. Heat surged through him, and he momentarily lost his equilibrium. “I...do not...find...demurity...arousing.”

Arthur’s eyes widened. “I’m not being demure!” Given his height and physical stature, he found it impossible to be demure. Oafish, maybe. Boorish at times, yes. But demure was too delicate.

“You’re certainly not being confident.” She took his hands—his big, clumsy, inexperienced hands—in hers. She could compose the tide with those hands the way a woman conducted a symphony; those hands had slain enemies, healed wounds and coaxed pleasure from him time and time again. He felt helpless in this moment—insignificant under her spell.

“If you’re not going to believe me, believe that trident. Believe everything we did to find it; believe how easy it was for you and you alone to pull it. No one under the sea could have spoken to Karathen as you did. Don’t be so hard on yourself, Arthur.” Her eyes pulled him in like the lips of Charybdis, and he didn’t much fear drowning in them. Mera affected a pout, and added, “Unless you don’t find my belief in you enough?”

His eyes went wide as tide pools. “That’s not—I didn’t mean—

But Mera only laughed. She pushed him against the wall, and her lips silenced any further protest. Her body melded into his, and any resistance bubbled away. Any man on land or under the waves who thought themselves superior to the ways of women were fooling themselves. Men were powerless against women; and just because he had the prefix of Aqua before Man didn’t make him immune. Far from it. Mera was the only one who understood the unexplored fathoms of his soul—those dark trenches that he dreaded to wade through.

“Mmm, what were we talking about?” Arthur said after they’d broken apart.

“I believe you were planning on retiring for the night...”

The temptation of her bed was immense. But the ocean had become too oppressive, and even Mera couldn’t break the stifling feeling.

“Actually...” Arthur suddenly slipped from Mera’s hold, and swam to the balcony door. “I’m afraid the call of lady liquor is too overwhelming.”

Mera gaped, but only for a moment. Arthur didn’t have a monopoly over arousal. Nor did any man. And he’d learned that when Mera truly wanted something, she didn’t give up easily, or at all. Her determination, not his, had led them to Atlan’s trident in the end.

“Leaving me for another woman?”

“Only if you don’t stop me.” And with that, he shot from the balcony, making for the heights of Atlantis. Mera was right behind, soaring through the sea like a comet in her pursuit. It would be so easy for her to command the currents to bind his legs; but they both knew this was just a game—foreplay taken to new heights.

Once clear of Atlantis, Arthur veered to the East. He knew on a subconscious level where the nearest shore was, and he wouldn’t rest until he’d made Mera follow him there. Through fields of idle jellies and schools of enormous mola mola he swam, dodging each obstacle as easily as blinking. Mera was hot on his heels—slower on purpose for the sake of their dalliance. She knew the oceans better, could work the waves and bring him to heel, king or not; but that she was indulging him only stoked the crashing swells in the pit of his gut. Both knew what they wanted. There was no need to turn this into a contest. Least of all when they had the same prize in mind.

Arthur felt the waters grew balmier. He shot surfacewards, eyes narrowed against the rush. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mera follow. Below, the ocean floor gradually inclined as they drew nearer a coastline. Light shimmered overhead in golden ripples. With one last burst of speed, Arthur shattered the surface, feeling warm, Mediterranean air on his face. Sensing Mera’s approach, he darted towards the nearby beach, his feet touching a sandbar in a matter of moments.

“This doesn’t look like the place to find alcohol,” Mera called.

Arthur smirked, slogging through the water. The beach ahead was a sheet of white sand. Gray cliffs embraced the cove either side, their peaks dotted with clusters of green cypress. The sky was a blanket of clear, twilight blues and greens, with the sun casting a golden glow as it dipped into the horizon.

“I changed my mind.” Water ran down the king’s body in rivulets as he walked ever shorewards. Each drop took his clothes from his skin, the golden chest plate and green scales of his pants gradually receding into the tide.

He heard Mera’s breath catch. Primitive ego swelled like a tsunami within him. Even after all their past experiences, his body had the power to render her breathless.

“What are...why did...”

And, apparently, speechless.

“I’m of both worlds, Mera,” Arthur said. He stood, thigh deep in the shallows, and looked back over his shoulder at his princess’s flushed face. “We’ve been together under the waves every time. Don’t you want to feel the air on you while you’re with me? Just once?”

Mera swallowed. Her breasts swelled beneath her own form-fitting suit of scales. The sight of her tongue as it darted between her lips nearly undid Arthur then and there. But he’d let his control lapse already that day. And this was far more deserving of his patience than holding court.

“Make love with me on the sand, Mera,” Arthur said. He waited, need vibrating through every fibre of his being. Already his cock had hardened, heavy against his stomach. She had but to say the word either way and he would follow—whether it meant returning to Atlantis unsatisfied, or taking her here on this empty beach under sight of the setting sun.

Her lips curved in an enticing smile, and she nodded once.

Triumphant, Arthur continued to trek through the water. Only when he felt the warmth of the sand beneath the soles of his feet did he turn, hand extended, to the woman who held his heart.

Mera’s eyes drank his naked, hard body in as if seeing it for the first time.

“You look so different under the light,” she whispered, her hand sliding into his.

Arthur laughed. “Hopefully for the better.”

She stepped into his embrace, her fingers tracing the intricate web of tattoos along his chest. “Not better. Just...like you really do belong in both worlds.”

Arthur tilted her chin up. “I belong wherever you are. I mean that, Mera.” Home wasn’t a place. He’d seen enough sappy movies to know that, but he’d never felt it before. Truly, he could be comfortable either on the surface or under the waves—if only there were people there he loved. And given that he had family in both...

Arthur shook his head. This wasn’t the time for thinking. Instinct reigned supreme at times like this. Pulling Mera closer, he crushed his lips against hers. The kiss was resonant this time, fathomless compared to what they’d shared in Atlantis—a silent confirmation that neither of them would be returning to the ocean until someone—hopefully both—were satisfied. 

He ground his body against hers. He was so hard it almost hurt. His hands grasped her shoulders, and he was stunned, and pleased, to find her skin bare. Opening his eyes, Arthur saw Mera’s clothes slipping away with each eddy of sluicing water. In next to no time, she stood exposed before him. Of course he’d seen her naked before; but inasmuch as she’d found the sight of his body under the light of the setting sun different to every other time she’d seen it, he, likewise, found as if he were seeing Mera for the first time. Sunlight caught the ruby strands of her hair, making them glow like the embers of a smoldering fire. Her skin appeared smoother to him here, more like the smooth stone of a statue than the surface of coral.

It wasn’t that she looked better, at all. It was just that the surface changed the way he saw her. And she was still so staggeringly beautiful to him.

“What?” Her breath, sweet as rain, played along his neck as she kissed his throat. Her hands wrought beautiful havoc on him as she clutched at his shoulders and back, as if she could rend the very strength from his muscles...which, Arthur knew, she could.

“You’re everything to me.” His fingers tangled through her hair. He kissed the top of her head, shuddering as his cock brushed against the glistening folds of her sex. Gods, but he wanted nothing more than to enter her right now. But he wanted Mera to feel the sand—to see that the pleasures of the Surface were just as sublime as below the sea.

He took her in his arms, and swung her feet out from under her. Mera gasped, then laughed, as Arthur carried her up the beach.

“Shouldn’t this be reserved for a wedding night?”

“If anyone asks, we’re practicing.” Not that he would tell a soul. He’d given up kissing and telling in the ignorant days of his adolescence. Right now he was man on earth, carrying his woman to the bed of nature. This was between them, the sky, the rocks and the ocean.

Gently, he lay Mera on the dry, white sand. For a moment, he hovered over her, gazing at the beauty of her body. He traced hand from her throat downwards, between her breasts, along the soft curve of her belly, to the space between her legs. Mera gasped, her neck arching, as Arthur traced her wetness with one long, calloused finger.

“If you want me to stop at any time,” he rasped, “just say so, and I will.”

“If you stop,” Mera said, her own voice nothing loathe in its need, “I might kill you.”

Arthur grinned. “That’s my girl.” He swooped like a preying albatross, and captured her breast his lips. His finger continued to tease her pussy, making her writhe. He wanted to tease, to pull her pleasure to and fro like an ebbing tide. Her hands clutched at him, her fingers digging into the flesh of his ass as he tormented her.

Mera gasped as Arthur swirled his tongue around her nipple. “Don’t ever trim your beard.”

Arthur smirked, and bit playfully at the skin of Mera’s breast. “Why’d I do that when it brings my lady so much pleasure?” His thumb brushed ever so slightly against the sensitive bud of her clit. She squirmed, her thigh brushing against his aching cock. He needed to be inside her, needed to part those wet, wet lips and feel her heat. But he wanted to be master of himself; wanted the pleasure to be paramount.

Mera looked at him through heavily lidded eyes. “Arthur,” she said, her voice clam as the surface of a lake. She was warning him, enticing him all in the same two syllables—with his own damn name. He didn’t have to ask. She was tired of teasing. But he wouldn’t give her exactly what she wanted. Not just yet.

Swift as a swell, he hiked Mera’s legs around his neck. “Well well well,” Arthur growled, his eyes drinking in the sight of her damp slit. “A feast.” With that, he buried his face in Mera’s heat, his tongue parting her folds, his teeth nipping at her skin. Mera all but screamed in delight, her thighs clamping around his head. His beard scratched her thighs as he ate and drank of her body. She tasted sweeter than the waters of life; the scent of her drove him wild, propelling him through an ocean of passion as he licked, lapped and tasted his princess.

“Arthur,” she gasped. “Yes...gods, yes!”

_That’s right_, the egotistical part of him thought. _Say my name, baby. Let the rocks and the trees and the ocean surf hear who’s making you feel like this_. The sea couldn’t dampen her cries of pleasure like it did when they made love in Atlantis; there was nowhere for her cries of ecstasy to go but up to the infinite heavens.

Her body shuddered; pleasure swelled and broke like a wave against the rocks. Ecstasy flooded Arthur’s mouth, and he devoured every sweet drop. But just as he was savoring the bliss of having brought his lady to such a crescendo, she grasped a fistful of his hair and tore him away. The world went topsy-turvy for a brief flicker. Mera rolled him over onto his back, her eyes practically glowing with desire. She gripped his shaft, her hand gliding over the skin as she raised herself over him.

“Mera,” he growled. The word broke into a cry of pleasure as she sank onto his cock, taking him to the very hilt. His balls ached with a need to release, but again, he mustered what little remaining control her had over himself. Mera kept a steadying hand on his abdomen as she rode him, slow and languorous.

“You feel...so incredible...” She gasped.

“I think that’s my line.”

Mera threw her head back in a burst of laughter. Making a woman cry out during sex was one thing, but being with one who could laugh in the throes of such heat? That was rarer than any Atlantean treasure.

Arthur sat up, circling his arms around her, meeting her rhythm with equal thrusts. His body shook like an earthquake, trembling with the need to climax.

Mera smiled, threading her fingers through his hair. “You don’t have to hold out for me.”

“I want...I want to make you feel—

“I do,” she sighed, burying her face in his neck, urging him on with the slick tightness of her body. “Believe me, I do.”

Who was he to disappoint a princess? He couldn’t resist, not with her clinging to him—not with the excruciating delight of her pussy taking his cock in.

He crashed against her, his body shaking. He bit into the skin of her shoulder, the better to stifle the roar of pleasure. His balls throbbed, and spots burst behind his eyes as he filled her. Whether it was sheer synchronicity or the force of his teeth piercing her skin, Arthur didn’t know nor did he care; but Mera fell backwards, clinging to him as she came once more.

Even as the bliss subsided, he remained joined to her, his chest heaving. When he opened his eyes, he saw her rosy face watching him. Arthur smirked, and kissed her, his whole body boneless in the delight of release. He slid from her slowly, and rolled onto his back. Mera huddled against him, head crooked against his shoulder.

“That was...” she breathed.

“I know,” Arthur sighed. “Are you alright?”

Mera laughed, sliding one leg against his thigh. “Alright is putting it lightly.”

“I know, it’s just...” He gestured at the sky. The gloaming had settled over the island, and the stars were already burning overhead. “I didn’t know how you’d feel about the Surface.”

Mera looked to the sky. “It feels...different.”

“We’ve established that much.” But he knew what she meant. He wondered if this was what ancient man felt like—surrounded by true nature, engaging in the most base experience—the vital act necessary for life and survival.

“The sand doesn’t bother you?”

Mera took a clump of pearly sand in her fist and let it slide through her fingers. “It’s amazing,” she said. “Soft and warm but so...infinite.”

“Some people don’t like sand,” Arthur said very quietly. “Because it’s coarse and rough and irritating and gets everywhere.” He could well sympathize with that, given that grains of sand were now clinging to places he’d rather they weren’t.

“Those people are idiots,” Mera replied, still gently moving her leg up and down the length of his thigh.

For a long while, they both lay together. The tide lapped against the beach with a sigh and a rush; distant night birds sang their last song. A silver gibbous moon peered between wisps of cloud.

“Mph,” Arthur grunted. “You’re moving that little leg in all the right places.”

“If it helps, I’m doing it on purpose.”

He was already stiff as a board. Smiling lazily, his fingers trailed up Mera’s legs. But she pressed them together, denying him access.

“Sorry,” Mera said with an apologetic smile. “I’m still a little sore.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Arthur said. His hand fell away, only for Mera to take him by the wrist. She guided him to his own length, and he didn’t need telling twice. Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he began to stroke himself, chest rising and falling in pace with the flowing waves.

“What are you thinking about?” Mera whispered.

“You...your body,” Arthur gasped. “How it felt...to be inside you...the warmth and...and how wet you were for me...”

“I’ll always be wet for you, my strong, handsome king.”

Droplets of milky precum leaked from the head of his cock. He was never going to let her go, not when she could make him feel so powerless and almighty at the same time.

“Come for me, Arthur,” Mera whispered, her lips against his ear.

He wasn’t so good at repressing his cry this time. His hips bucked. White seed shot from his length, splattering on his stomach and chest. His hand fell limply to his side, his entire body boneless with satisfaction.

Mera’s hand hovered along his skin. Arthur stared at himself, watching as milky semen floated from his skin, compelled by Mera’s power. She’d never done this before, and it was so perverse that he couldn’t help but laugh.

“I don’t think your powers were meant for this,” Arthur said. Each bead and strand melded together into a fair sized pearl of essence.

“Are you telling me how to use my gods given gifts?” Mera chuckled.

The response was on the tip of his tongue. Then the floating orb of seed land with a plop and splatter on his face. Warm, stickiness coated his lips and beard. He spluttered, half-shocked, half-repulsed.

“You’ll pay for that!” Arthur wiped semen from his eyes, in time to see Mera sprinting for the edge of the beach. Her scaly green suit ripples up her body. She was making a getaway, and it wasn’t fair.

“You’re going to have to catch me first!” She called to him. Then she dove below the surface.

With a growl, Arthur launched himself after her. He’d punish her. Maybe with a well-deserved spanking. Sea spray formed the covering of his pants as he pursued his naughty princess. He broke through the waves, his body cleansed of sand and semen.

Mera was ahead of him by a league or so. But he’d catch up. Already his heart was pounding at the prospect of another chase.

It _was_ good to be the king. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Drop a comment if you wish.


End file.
